Smash Bros: Shattered Destinies
by Sm0kingSamoria
Summary: Five long years ago, the Dark Lord Gannondorf laid siege to Hyrule Castle town and broke the triforce, resulting in the many dimensions breaking. Now, he is in search of an even more powerful force known as the Aetherforce. It is up to our many heroes spread across the various dimensions to stop him form obtaining this power and destroying the universe. I DON'T OWN THESE CHARACTERS
1. Chapter 1: Sheik

**Before you read:** This series is rated **M **for frightening scenes, violence, strong language, usage of alcohol, and the occasional sexual scene. If there is any sexual stuff in a chapter I will warn you at the top. That being said,the focus will not be on heavy sex or romance unless it directly influences the rest of the plot. If that's what you're here for, this is not the place for you.

This is a story based off of the many universes of nintendo with a heavy focus on Legend of Zelda.

I'm not planning on following the cannon too strictly. You will notice that some things will be different (OOT Gannondorf in the BOTW world, Corrin in FE awakening world, etc.), so if that kind of thing annoys you, maybe avoid this story. Regardless, I will still try my best to do these characters justice, because I grew up with many of them and they mean a lot me.

Lastly, I will try to update the story as often as I can. If there are long periods of time where I don't upload, I will try to give you updates and let you know what is going on.

Without further ado, enjoy Smash Bros: Shattered Destinies!

**Chapter 1: Sheik**

_The fog hungers for the damned._

If you ask a Hylian about the Lost Woods, this is likely one of the first things they will say. Even the bravest of adventurers will tell you to stay away from this cursed place. That's why it was all the more confusing when Sheik found the Dark Lord himself, Gannondorf, making his way into the maw of the woods.

Sheik knew that, after years of searching for him, she would find Gannondorf eventually, but she never expected it to be here. He never saw her, of course. While he and the troops that accompanied him navigated the maze of the Lost Woods on foot, Sheik would trail closely behind in the refuge of the tall treetops.

The party below started out 30 strong, but quickly dwindled to a 10th of the size. The Woods is a dangerous place plunged in eternal darkness.

It all started with the blinding fog, the same fog that carries with it a horrible illness. Once it made it's way to Gannondorf's camp, many of the soliders started to lose their way and catch the disease of the stalthos. Sheik saw it all unfold from above. First, the paranoia sets in. One by one Gannondorf's troops began to turn on one another. Fights broke out over meaningless figments of their minds every other minute. One bokoblin even burned the tent of a fellow solider because of a dispute over a cooked duck.

Then, confusion and loss of memory begins to show. Many of them would start to wander off and forget who they were or why they were there. This is where the effects of the disease become permanent. You start to roam meaninglessly around the woods, slowly losing sight of reality, until the final stages of the disease become apparent.

The skin on your body starts to flake off in clumps, and your muscles shrivel up into nothingness. By the end, you are nothing but brainless skeletal remnants forced to roam the cursed woods for all of eternity. You never die of age or hunger, and you never leave. The only way to meet your end is by the ferocious bite of fire.

Sheik saw it all happen to one of the bokoblins in the army early on. It was a particularly dark night when he decided to leave the comfortable confines of the campsite. Nobody knew what had happened to him. They started inventing wild stories about the soldier getting abducted by a strange creature or being lured away by a seductive siren.

A week passed until they had found him again. By pure coincidence, the remains of the red bokoblin had shuffled his way back to the campsite with withered, weak feet. When they saw him, when they had laid eyes upon what he had become, they had learned the true extent of fear.

The bokoblin soldier, not much older than a boy, had returned to them a monster. The entire left side of his body had succumbed to a sickly brown rot. His darkened gray bones shown beneath the areas that rotted off, and the joints that still functioned gave a weak, feeble twitch.

The worst part was the moaning. As he looked around at his past friends with lifeless, swollen eyes, he gave a horrible, guttural wail comparable to a mother that had lost their child. He was mourning something. What would the dead have to mourn? Is it their past life? Is it that they miss their family? Perhaps it isn't something for the living to understand. Perhaps it is such a horrible, miserable feeling that our brains are incapable of understanding it.

When the camp saw those sad eyes and exposed ribs, they knew that the stalthos had taken him. They impaled his lifeless body atop a spike, and burned him until there was nothing left but the small pile of soot and ash laying on the mossy ground.

Sheik watched it all from above. She never knew the little bokoblin soldier, but she couldn't help but weep for him.

By the end of their two week journey into the Woods, there were only three people in the party still alive. Gannondorf himself, a lizalfos, and a moblin. The disheartened party moved deeper into the ever-expansive forest until they reached a small wooden shack.

By the looks of it, it must've been standing there for centuries. The wood was rotted and covered in moss, and the intricate web of the vile skulltulas had already claimed it long ago.

Whatever they were doing here, it had to have been of the upmost importance. No sane person would traverse the Lost Woods like they were without some sort of purpose. Whatever was happening in that old shack must've been something truly dark.

Sheik sat on the branch of a dead tree and observed the party march into the foundation. The moblin stood watch outside, while Gannondorf and the lizalthos made their way through the old crooked door. Their footsteps came to an abrupt halt and the dim light of an oil lantern shown through the many cracks in the wooden walls as well as the window off to the side.

Sheik snuck past the giant moblin and made her way to investigate. Upon peering into the rotted window, she saw Gannondorf standing upright in front of another hunched over figure with a collection of strange masks at his back.

Usually, Gannondorf has a way about him that causes everything to absorb his dark energy, but it pails in comparison to the sheer hopeless feeling exuding from the other man. Sheik couldn't look in his direction without feeling nauseated and having an incessant static ringing in her ears.

There was something inherently unnatural about this man's very existence. The lizalthos would seemingly agree, as he stayed close to the door, ready to take off into the dark at a moment's notice.

The man looked to be in his 40's, but his skin was so unnaturally smooth that he had to be younger. The large smile that slashed across his face was one that was too big for his narrow cheeks to contain.

"I'm done with games, sorcerer. You promised me that five years after I broke the triforce I would obtain power beyond imagination. Five years has passed since that day, and yet I am no more powerful now than I was then. I want to know why you lied to me," Gannondorf said.

The man put down a hot cup of tea and cupped his large hands in front of his fading purple robe; all the while keeping that evil smile. He gave a quiet chuckle and began to speak.

"Do not lose patience now, my friend. You will have the power you seek in due time, but there are more steps you must take first," the figure stated.

"I've followed enough of your steps. You've done nothing for me but weaken my power since the day we met. Your useless magic tricks have done nothing,"

"Oh no no no, you misunderstand. I am no sorcerer or magician or any other form of magic user. I am simply a humble salesman who collects information from afar,"

Gannondorf kept his arms crossed at his large chest and let his eyes wander around the room, looking at the various odd trinkets he had strung around haphazardly. Then, quickly reestablishing contact with the sulken man.

"I would imagine a place like this would be a bad spot to be a simple 'salesman', isn't it?"

"I rather like it here, myself. You may not get as many customers, but the few that do find their way here always have a story to tell, much like yourself. Sometimes, they are even polite enough to give me a nice mask for my collection. Perhaps you could even give me your own mask, if you so desired,"

The man reached for one of the many masks fastened to his pack. Sheik noted that it appeared as though it was bound with human skin. The expression on the face looks like that of pure terror, and it made Sheik all the more uneasy.

"I did not come here for your oddities. I came here to discuss the power you persuaded me of last time we met. Your idleness in this matter has begun to anger me, and I seek answers,"

"Tell me, do you even understand the inner workings of the power you seek, oh great dark one?"

Gannondorf's expression gradually grew more irritated. His red brow lowered and his jaw began to clench.

"Perhaps I would've known if you would've just told me five years ago!"

Most people, when confronted with such a powerful menacing presence such as Gannondorf, would grow visibly frightened at the very least, but this man did no such thing. He just kept wearing his smile and long narrow eyes.

"Let's begin this tale millions of years ago, in an age long past. Before the three goddesses even existed, there existed four, far more powerful beings whose names are lost to time. These four beings bound together to create a perfect universe. In that universe, they made vast, beutiful lands with creatures just as beutiful as the world they roamed. But one day, the four beings gazed down upon their creation and saw that it had grown tainted with evil and darkness. Their world had escaped the confines of their perfect vision, so they started anew and created another. When darkness found its way into that universe as well, they created another, then another, then thousands more to follow. Nothing they did worked. Every single creation they made became tainted. The beings realized that they were incapable of creating a perfect world, so they killed themselves out of grief,"

Sheik couldn't believe what she was hearing. As the man was talking feelings of dread, confusion, and anger all competed for the leading spot in her head. With those emotions also came questions. Who was this man? How did he know this? Sheik wasn't sure, but she knew that he was dangerous.

"How does this tale of yours relate to obtaining great power? And why did it require breaking the triforce?" Gannondorf asked.

"Oh, but you didn't let me finish, my friend. When these great beings died, their souls were bound into four shards, known as the Aetherforce. They were scattered across four different universes, and reside within worthy hosts to this day. I do not know the whereabouts of these shards, but I do know how to find them, and breaking the triforce was the first step,"

"Elaborate,"

"The triforce was made by the goddesses Din, Nairu, and Farore. Although they are powerful to be sure, they are simply children's toys in comparison to the four great beings. The triforce, in the same way, is like a butchered replica of the Aetherforce. Despite being nothing compared to the Aetherforce, it still holds a tremendous amount of power. So when you broke it, it broke the very fabric of space and time and created bridges between the universes, the likes of which we haven't seen since the days of the creation itself. You can use these newly created bridges to travel through the universes and claim the Aetherforce for yourself. That is how you will finally get the power you desire,"

"And how exactly would I travel across these 'bridges' that you speak of?"

"There is an ancient and powerful song that has the ability to let you pass through these bridges-"

Gannondorf quickly extended a muscular arm and grabbed the man by his slender, pale neck.

"Then stop wasting time and play the song! I did not come here to discuss your strange religion, Hylian!"

"I do not know the song. The only people who do are the Rito, and they won't let you have it willingly,"

His grip on the man's throat tightened, but the man still smiled.

"Are you mad!? I can't just start a war with the Rito now! We're under a ceasefire for a reason! If they join the war, they could easily retake Hyrule Castle! Now that the triforce is gone, they would even be able to kill me,"

"By the time you can jump through dimensions you will be able to stomp the Rito like ants. It's all a temporary setback on your quest for total domination. You will be a god!"

"And how do I know you aren't just tricking me? So far your promises have been empty, and your allegiance is questionable at best. My patience with you is wearing thin. Prove yourself trustworthy or I will see to it that you meet a fitting demise!"

The man turned his head to lock eyes with Sheik. Her fight or flight response kicked in immediately as his bony finger arose to point in her direction.

"If I was so untrustworthy, my friend, I wouldn't have told you about the girl that's been looking at us through the window this whole time,"

Sheik quickly let loose a smoke bomb and jumped as high as she could until she could feel her fingertips brush against one of the rough tree branches.

"Find her! Find the girl and kill her!" Gannondorf shouted.

She swung as quickly as she could from branch to branch. Her arms began to strain as her weight was constantly shifting from one side to the other, but the adrenaline helped her ignore it. She pushed herself to keep going, even as she heard the stomping feet of the moblin approach from below.

"Come out of the shadows, girl. Don't be afraid," said the moblin.

Her hands found a branch that was big enough to stand on and sustain her weight, so she hoisted herself up onto the tree to catch her breath.

"You're going too far from the light, girl. You and I both know that once the fog rolls in we're both as good as dead, so you might as well just give yourself up now and save me the trouble," the moblin continued.

Sure enough, the bitter fog began to warp through her linen clothing and kiss her skin. It started as a gentle touch, but it started to warp into strangulation. Soon enough, it began to cover her eyes and slide it's fingers through her throat.

"If you want to kill yourself in this godess forsaken forest than go ahead and do it, but no matter what I will hunt you down! I died long before I found myself here anyhow,"

Sheik briefly contemplated heeding his words, but deep down she knew she couldn't. If she doesn't at least try to survive, then this whole mission would've been for nothing and terrible things would be sure to come. She needed to warn the others, and if it meant she might turn into a stalthos, so be it. She bounced from treetop to treetop, and tried to resist the cold grip of the fog.

There was but one mission on her mind now; one last thing that kept her going through the evil Woods. She needed to find Link.


	2. Chapter 2: Shulk

**Chapter 2: Shulk**

Shulk didn't consider himself a man that was scared easily. After all, how could you possibly still get frightened of monsters in the dark after everything he's been through?

The man absolutely doesn't lack any bravery, but a fight to the death with a girl who could turn into a dragon naturally made him nervous. It's quite possibly the last thing that frightened him in a long time. In a way, he liked it. The adrenaline rush is something he is always on the hunt for.

He stood in the corner of the large battle arena, preparing for his long awaited trial by combat for his thievery. Arena Ferox, they called it. A massive battle arena made of ages old stone that stood higher than the tallest castles. It supposedly used to be for determining who would be the next ruler, but now it is used to host trials of combat.

The people in the seats were so plentiful that they looked like nothing more than blades of grass in a farmer's field; numbering so vast that you couldn't see where they ended.

At the bottom of the crowd were men holding crimson banners as well as countless drummers, pan flute players, and even chanting choir men. Shulk supposed that this was all to please the boundless crowd behind them.

This land was largely a foreign one to Shulk. Ferox, Ylisse, and Valm were all large and war-torn nations that were clearly technologically far behind what Shulk had grown used to. He found himself here five years ago, not remembering how he got here or why. Ever since, he's tried again and again to find his way back home, but every time he just ends up in more trouble than before. It's all lead up to this moment, where his chances of survival had finally become as low as they could possibly get.

The crowd began to make enthusiastic cheering sounds and stand up out of their seats, acting less as a group of people and more as a wave; moving all in tandem. Shulk took this to mean that his opponent had finally entered the arena, because he knew they would never rejoice for a foreign criminal like him.

To validate his assumption, he moved his gaze over to the other corner of the arena, where he spotted the girl he had heard so many people talk about; Corrin.

The other unfortunate prisoners stuck in Arena Ferox had told many stories about this girl, calling her a monster that drew power from hell.

"As powerful as the mountains and as fast as the south winds" they had said.

So naturally, Shulk had expected some horrid ugly beast to appear out of the other side of the arena. Much to Shulk's surprise, however, she was absolutely beautiful.

She was wearing a full set of white and black armor, but her shapely figure was still abundantly apparent even through the thick curtain of steel. Her physical appearance was not her best feature, despite how breathtaking it may be. It was instead the astounding amount of self-assuredness in which she carried herself. Every movement she made was carried out with full confidence, and she knew it. She walked as if the very ground below her was willing to obey her every command.

That alone would've been enough to make her look like royalty, but combine that with her beauty and it becomes the perfect recipe to make any man completely smitten with her.

Her beutiful dark blue eyes swirled like a typhoon, and for a moment, those powerful eyes locked firmly in place with Shulk's. Although the thought was quickly dismissed, he couldn't help but feel as if their meeting in this arena was no meaningless cosmic coincidence, but instead the work of divine fate. Those eyes in front of him felt familiar in a way that isn't possible for the human mind to articulate.

She raised a fist fitted with a black gauntlet above her head to signify that she wanted silence and order. Almost immediately, the crowd turned from loud and energetic to quieter than a forest upon seeing her raised hand. The control that she had over the people was indisputably amazing, and further cemented her regal presence.

"I guess you'll be the one I'm fighting, huh? You don't look like the monster I've heard about. I bet I could take you on without even using my blade," Shulk boasted.

Corrin brushed back her platinum hair and directed her gaze toward Shulk with a smirk that revealed a set of sharp, serrated teeth. Although it was just for a second, Shulk could see that her eyes had briefly lost it's natural whiteness and turned an indescribable color that held the power and brightness of fire with the hue and fluidity of the ocean.

All the beauty she had once possessed had transformed into raw power. In that moment, Shulk knew that the rumors of her being more than human were completely true. She was the dragon of legend.

"Looks can be quite deceiving. Considering your questionable line of work, I would assume you would know all about deception," Corrin said quietly.

The girl quickly lost her more frightening features, opting for the beautiful face that originally walked into the arena, and forwarded her attention back toward the crowd. She lost her smirk and stood taller before the people, standing in a position that caused the blue cape at her back to ripple in the dry wind.

"Before you are to begin your trial by combat, please state your name and inform the people what you are guilty of," She continued in a louder voice.

Shulk knew he would never be able to win over the people, so there wasn't any point in even trying to appear better than her. He just needed to tell the truth and get this whole mess over with.

"My name is Shulk. I am about to fight you to the death because I am guilty of taking part in stealing weapons from your armory. I can assure you I didn't do it because I'm a bad man. I did it because me and my crew needed swords and shields to make it back to our homelands. If you want to kill me for my crimes, then so be it. I don't want to live in a world where going back home is a crime anyway," stated Shulk.

Corrin tilted her head down to the ground in contemplation.

"I don't believe you are an evil man, Shulk, but you have violated the laws of this land and stolen from royalty. You have committed a crime against my country and no sob story will change that. Of course, it is not my place to decide your guilt. We shall see if fate pities you more than I do by deciding it with combat!"

At this, she raised her sword up to the clouds and evoked a booming cheer out of the audience.

"Are you ready for your final challenge, Shulk? Are you ready for your strength to be put to the test in front of the gods!?"

He paused. Shulk wouldn't let it show on his face, but he was more nervous now than he had been in his five years in this strange land. He knew that every breath he took after he said the words could very well be his last. Every thought of all the friends he left behind could be the last time anyone ever thought about them. Shulk feared that if he died, everything he's ever done to see his home would all be for nothing, and that there would be nothing left of it after his memories died with him.

With that thought, his fear began to morph into nothing but pure determination. He cannot die here. He won't allow himself to die without first seeing his home one last time, even if that meant it lived only in his memory. Shulk clenched his fist tightly around the handle of his blade until his knuckles felt a wave of static numbness overtake them.

"Bring it on lizard lady! I'm ready,"

Corrin raised her eyebrows and developed an expression of intrigue on her face.

"I will hand it to you, you are much bolder than most who meet my blade in the arena. I admire that. Now, let's find out if your bravery matches your might!"

Corrin charged at Shulk at speeds that caused the dirt below to accumulate into dust. Before Shulk even had time to think, he saw her sword swinging downward above his head. He brought up his blade to connect with hers just inches away from his face. With sparks, the sword slid off of his and shifted back into her grip.

She swiped again from the side, and the blades met each other again. Shulk used the opening from the parry to swing at her hip, but before the blade could hit its mark, the transformed arm of her armor stopped the blade. The metal twisted and bent in ways that shouldn't have even been possible to form a large spike around her arm.

With her other arm, she swung her sword towards Shulk. He ducked just in time, and felt the metal brush across the top of his dark blonde hair. He punched her in the face with his free hand and stunned her just long enough to bring his blade back into his control.

Corrin extended her twisted metal arm, but the attack was dodged. Their blades swung at each other in rapid succession, and created a wall of sparks that flung in every direction. She showed no signs of tiring. Shulk knew he was outmatched. If he was going to survive, he needed to channel the monado arts. He needed to buy himself just a tiny window of time to begin the process, so he had to act.

Shulk jumped over from the front of her to the side, knowing that she would have to turn around to strike him. And when she swung around to hit him, he was able to parry both her arm spike and her blade in one swing. She stumbled, and Shulk used this opening to unleash his best move.

"BACKSLASH!" Shulk yelled. He pulled his sword up into the air and swung down onto her back, causing her white armor to bend and break.

Now was his chance. He looked deep into the hilt of his sword and begun to channel the monado's power. He cycled through them all, jump, smash, buster, shield, and then speed.

Upon activating it, he uttered an assured "Speed!" and felt a surge of green energy wrap its tendrils around his body.

"You're stronger than you look, Shulk, but not strong enough,"

Corrin launched another flurry of quick attacks at Shulk, but now he had the power of the speed monado on his side. Instead of being outmatched, he could now outpace all of her attacks without even expending any of his energy. Every attack was parried and every advancement was denied.

With the last bit of his speed monado, he created an opening and was able to slash her across the face, creating a large streak of red flesh in its wake. She cupped the injury in her hand and fell to her knees. The crowd all let out a massive gasp of surprise, and watched intently at Shulk's next move.

"And here I was thinking this was going to be difficult. My dear old auntie could fight better than you!" he proclaimed.

Corrin let her hand escape her cheek, showing an ever-growing pool of blood leaking down her face and neck. She looked through the strands of her hair and gave a glare with her fanged smirk. The eyes of the dragon had returned.

"I wouldn't be so sure of yourself yet. The battle has only just begun!"

Corrin flew backward onto her feet again. The metal covering her arm started to morph again, this time into something larger. Little by little, the metal began to shapen into something more sinister. It grew a jaw with long narrow teeth, a widened nose, horns, and finally, the eyes. They glowed a radiant blue, just like the girl wielding it.

All of a sudden, The dragon head began physically charging a powerful blue amalgamation of energy for a few brief moments. All at once, its metal jaw widened and unleashed an amalgamation of pure, raw energy directly towards Shulk at speeds that parted the air. Shulk was powerless to stop the ball from launching directly into his stomach.

The impact sucked all of the air out of his chest and left him flying onto the dirt. He desperately tried to breathe while laying motionless on the dry ground. The metal dragon head retreated back into nothingness and her real hand shown its presence once more.

Corrin walked up to his useless body and placed a metal-encased foot onto his stomach. She brought up her sword, and drove it into Shulk's shoulder.

"Aagh!!!" He screamed. The cold pain burst in the area where she stabbed him and raced it's way all over his body. As she drove the sword out, the pain worsened still and brought with it a fountain of hot blood streaming out of the wound.

"It looks like your fate is decided, thief. Turns out the gods hadn't taken a liking to you after all," she said.

During all of this, Shulk began to hear something behind them. He heard the clinking of metal and the rage of fire. Behind his head, there was some sort of fight taking place. He knew from the moment he heard its cues that this was the backup plan that might very well save his life.

"That's all well and good and all, but you see, Corrin, I'm a raging, thieving, dirty scoundrel. And if there's anything raging, thieving, dirty scoundrels are good at, it's cheating fate," he said through labored breaths in an effort to distract her.

The sound drew closer. He could recognize the noise of the claws scraping across steel weapons anywhere. After all, that sound had followed behind him in so many battles in the past. This was a friend. A warrior who lost his home long ago as well. Their destinies are forever bound together, and if one died, the other would shortly follow.

Shulk knew that this friend of his had come all this way to rescue him. One by one he will take the guards out, and little by little they will escape this place and find their homes. That particular friend had a popular catchphrase that he used to announce his arrival. That catch phrase is-

"INCINEROAR!!!" Incineroar yelled.

Corrin looked behind her shoulder at the brute, but before she had time to even process what was going on, a big red claw smacked her across her face and brought her nose diving toward the ground. The crowd was in a frenzy, perhaps not knowing how to process this unexpected turn of events. The big furry beast stood tall above the injured Shulk, and gave a loud roar to the audience.

"Incineroar! I'm so glad to see you!" said Shulk.

Incineroar, in his typical braggadocious manner, looked up to the crowd and raised his claw in the air and gave a big, prideful grin.

"You thought this weak little girl was going to take the prize today, didn't you? BUT NO! IT WAS I ALL ALONG! INCINEROAR!" he bellowed.

As the crowd booed ferociously, Corrin began to rise up from the dust. Her wounds appeared to mend, and the aura of power surrounding her only grew. White dragon wings grew from her back, and the long, swirling antlers protruded from her head. Incineroar was too distracted to notice, but she pointed her powerful sword directly at him.

"You will regret calling me a weak little girl, beast!" She yelled.

Incineroar directed his attention at her, and in an instant lost all of his bravado, replacing it with the look of a frightened little kitten.

"Oh holy Arceus! We gotta get out of here Shulk!"

He threw Shulk's beaten body across his shoulder, and sprinted across the arena to the iron gate. From there, he would be able to escape. With every step he took, the pain in Shulk's shoulder gave a throbbing pound. Corrin followed close behind, with her wings carrying her in the air.

"Our fight isn't over, Shulk! You can't evade fate forever!" she screamed.

With his free hand, the big red beast punched a massive hole through the gate and hopped in with Shulk still at his shoulder. Shulk's eyes struggled to adjust to the abrupt change in lighting for a minute when inside the gate. When he finally began to decipher what was in front of him, he could tell they were in a stone hallway adorned with wooden torches that cast a dim light upon the walls.

There were two guards blocking the end of the hallway with full plated steel armor and lances so tall they touched the ceiling. These guards were no match for Incineroar, who simply plowed through them with a flaming charge.

Upon passing the door that the guards were blocking, they speeded past a banquet area with tons of shocked patrons looking at the two escapees. There were multiple guards that trailed behind, but Incineroar was much faster than any of them. The next door they burst through shown another hallway with windows that shown brief glimpses of the blinding sun. The next door burst open with the full force of the light of day. They had finally reached their way to the courtyard. Shulk and Incineroar had escaped Arena Ferox.


	3. Chapter 3: Link

**Chapter 3: Link**

**(Warning: this chapter depicts PTSD and depression)**

There aren't words to describe the visions that plague the mind of this downtrodden ranch hand.

Every night before the man gives in to the quiet embrace of sleep, visions of days long past tear through his mind like a dog ripping through paper. The memories of that fateful day on the battlefield flash through his mind and make his body involuntarily spasm under his elk hide blanket.

He can still smell the stench of the smoke as fire burned through every house he grew up knowing. The image of the forces of evil charging through the gates of Castle Town are permanently locked in his mind. No matter how hard he tries, he can't even stop them in his dreams.

The rancher kept telling himself that the seige of Castle Town was long ago, but his instincts would not listen. Even as he guided his beloved stallion to the feeding trough, he still had moments where he thought he was back on the battlefield.

No matter how calming of an environment he surrounded himself with, he could never escape the siege.

The man took a second to kneel onto the muddy ground and catch his shaky breath. His horse, Epona, looked down at him with eyes that feigned understanding. She gave him a loving nudge with her muzzle and a sniff that caused him to tap back into reality.

He looked around, and slowly became aware of his quiet ranch once again, and the rolling, bright green and yellow hills that it stood on. He wiped away his tears, and stood with what little strength he had left. The rancher breathed in the clear, cool air of the elevated plain.

"Sorry you had to see me like that again, girl," he said to his horse with a pat.

Epona kicked her front leg a few times and whinnied in reassurance. At least, the rancher would like to think it's reassurance. He gently guided the horse to her large wheat bunch and made his way back into his house to cool off.

The rancher brushed a hand over his long, blonde beard. He didn't enjoy having facial hair all that much, but he didn't have the minimal amount of urge to shave it off either. His nihilistic outlook on his life prevented him from caring about small things like that. The only thing that even got him out of bed at this point is Epona and the other livestock.

Before his callused fingers could touch the doorknob of his house, he began to hear the galloping of horse hooves advancing towards him. They made a fast, rhythmic *buh dah bum, buh dah bum* sound upon making contact with the ground. He knew it couldn't have been his own horses, because Epona was in her stable and his other horses, Ingrid and Alphonse, were both asleep.

Whomever it was, they rode swiftly in their advancement to his ranch.

He looked over his shoulder to examine the situation. It appeared to be a taller figure upon a horse that the rancher identified as a south western breed. The person slammed the horse to a halt and dismounted, planting their feet onto the firm soil.

The person removed their hood, revealing a head of braided, fire red hair upon a dark skinned woman. This woman was from Gerudo Desert.

"I think you've lost your way, Gerudo. There's no business for you here," he said.

As she advanced closer to the man, he noticed her golden scimitar at her waist and her fur cloak. The weapon was standard fare for a woman from the desert, but the cloak was distinctly of Hylian craftsmanship. The rancher pondered whether or not she stole it.

"On the contrary, I know exactly where I am and I know exactly what my business is. I've heard rumors of a great hero who lived up here, and I came for myself to investigate," the Gerudo said through a silk bandanna hiding her mouth.

Here we go again, he thought. This isn't the first time someone has asked for a hero up here, and it probably won't be the last.

"Well there's no heroes here. Only me,"

"The hero I'm looking for, he was a royal guard before the war. According to legend, he single handedly slain a Lynel with nothing but a stone dagger. Does any of that ring a bell?"

"That man doesn't exist anymore. Hasn't for a long time,"

Even through her bandanna, her poorly hid smirk was too easy to spot. She was starting to connect the dots, making the rancher increasingly irritated.

"Are you sure about that? Because I was told he's still alive. Living a quiet live as a hermit with his horses. I believe his name was-"

"I know what his damn name was! He doesn't exist! He died when the triforce was destroyed by the Dark Lord. I don't know what you want from me, and frankly I don't care. Just leave me alone,"

"I knew you were the great Link! You have a bit more wrinkles than I've heard, and the facial hair kind of threw me off too, but I knew you were him from the moment you started saying cryptic shit I knew wasn't true!"

Indeed, the rancher was once known as Link. He hasn't called himself that name in a long time, and he doesn't plan on starting now. It's the only thing that still ties him to the seige, and the sooner he can forget it, the better.

"Go away before I do something I'll regret. I'm not a hero and I no longer have the triforce of courage. Link the hero is dead,"

"I will admit, you look more like the town drunkard than a hero, but you had the triforce of courage nonetheless. I'm no expert on legendary heroes, but I think being the wielder of a triforce makes you a hero straight out of destined prophecy,"

"I don't believe in destiny or prophecy. Now, this is the last time I will tell you nicely. Get off my ranch, or I will make you get off so help me Hylia-"

"Oh come on! You haven't even heard me out yet!"

"I don't need to, because it's just going to be the same lynel-shit it's always been. You either want me to slay a great beast, protect you on a mission, or get my autograph to show the rest of your stupid desert friends! Is that it?"

"No. I came here because Gannondorf's army is getting stronger. He's made an alliance with the Yiga Clan, and his troops are mobilizing in the west,"

"So what? I don't care what happens in the west! All I care about is my horses and my land. Nothing else,"

The woman's cocky demeanor was quickly lost and replaced with what appeared to be surprise. Her hand fell off her hip, and her stance became slacked and less confident.

"Really? You don't care about your sworn enemy winning his war? You really have given up, haven't you? Don't you remember how he burned your city to the ground and slaughtered your people? Do you even remember what he did to princess Zel-"

"Of course I remember! I think about it every single day, you ignorant, desert-dwelling bitch! I can't even close my eyes when I go to sleep anymore because when I do, I see it. I see the face of everyone I let die, I see the blood that ran through the streets, I see the fire that swallowed the city, and I see the face of the princess..."

"Then why are you just sitting here doing nothing? Why aren't you going out there and stopping him? My homeland, Gerudo Town, is about to be taken over by the Yiga Clan with the help of that same monster that burned your home, and you're sitting on your miserable ass doing nothing,"

"I'm not doing anything because it's useless. I can't stop him. Nobody can. He's already taken over most of Hyrule. The best thing I can think of doing is trying to avoid it all entirely,"

"That's called being a coward,"

"It's called doing the smart thing! I tried fighting that evil once, and it did nothing to stop him. No matter what you try to do, you're not going to beat Gannondorf,"

"If you just give up, then you're letting him win. If you still have a single strand of courage in your body, you will try and fight to your last breath, no matter the odds. I know I will when the time comes,"

"I already told you, it would be all for nothing. There's nothing you can do to convince me otherwise. Go away,"

"Fine. Be this way if you want, but when you finally have nowhere else to run, I hope you think about the people you let down. If you do change your mind, my name is Sashka. Ask for me at the pub in Kakariko Village,"

"I assure you, you will not hear from me again. You're wasting your time,"

Sashka the Gerudo mounted onto her horse, and adjusted the leather saddle accordingly. Before she took off, she took one last look at the man who was Link and gave a sigh. Her head hung a lot lower than it did before she arrived here.

"Hiya!" she said with a kick.

Just as quickly as she arrived, she took off onto the long road to Kakariko Village. As he watched her leave, he felt various conflicting emotions, some of which he couldn't even pinpoint.

Sashka was right when she called him a coward. He knew he was. The question on his mind was whether or not it was justified to have this kind of cowardice.

No, he thought. It doesn't matter now. I'm not Link anymore. Being courageous is always stupid, and I will not be a slave to stupidity any longer. This is what's best for me.

He made his way back into his little elm wood house through the barn style door. He weaved his feet through the garbage strewn about the floor. He didn't like the garbage, but he couldn't be bothered picking it up. What's the point in picking up trash if the rancher would be dead soon anyway?

He continued to drag his tired feet toward his bed, and kicked off his shoes to get ready to lay down. He didn't expect to go to sleep, but he didn't care. The man couldn't find it in him to care about much anymore, so why would this be any different? One day, he will get what he wants and just wither away. When he finally dies, everything tying him to the bitter past would finally be cut away. That thought was, oddly enough, the only one that gave him a bit of peace. Once he's dead, he'll no longer have to suffer.

But maybe not, his mind wondered. maybe there's another way. Maybe I don't have to die a coward.

His brain switched from one thought to another like someone was pressing a button in his head. One minute, he wanted to go with her, but the next, he retreated back into the corner of his mind that was still scared.

He didn't know what to think. Maybe if he finally went to sleep, his mind would be a little more clear.


End file.
